


Wedding Gifts

by stickster (all_these_ghosts)



Category: Star Wars Legends: New Jedi Order Era - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-01
Updated: 2005-11-01
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:31:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_these_ghosts/pseuds/stickster
Summary: set a few years after "The Unifying Force" (AU)





	

**Author's Note:**

> set a few years after "The Unifying Force" (AU)

Jaina couldn't take her eyes off of her own reflection.

It was silly, she knew, and she was more than a little embarrassed by it--but she couldn't help it. She had never really registered the fact that she was an adult, a _woman_ , and that she had grown to be quite as beautiful as her mother. When Jaina pictured herself, she still saw the skinny girl she'd been on Yavin IV, or sometimes the dirty, exhaused pilot she had become during the war.

Jaina had never imagined herself this way: wearing a perfectly fitted white dress, her brown hair falling in thick curls around her shoulders and her calloused hands perfectly manicured. Looking in the full-length mirror on her wedding day was like seeing herself for the first time.

Lost in her thoughts, she jumped as a knock came at the door.

"Come in," Jaina said breathlessly, expecting her mother, maybe, or Jacen.

Kyp Durron entered instead, looking typically dramatic with his long, dark hair and sweeping cape. "Hey, Goddess," he said, grinning slightly.

"Kyp!" she exclaimed, crossing to him and hugging him tightly around the waist. "Uncle Luke said you weren't coming."

He extracted himself from her grip gracefully. "I'm still not," he said, and the lack of regret in his voice was conspicuous. "I'm sorry--duty calls."

"Of course," she said--the regret in _her_ voice nearly tangible. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Wedding present."

"You couldn't have just added it to the pile?" Jaina teased.

"Well," he said, and he finally had the grace to look uncomfortable, "this isn't really--for both of you."

"So it's not another pressure cooker?"

"Not quite," he said. In spite of her joking, the expression in his green eyes was serious, even sad.

She swallowed, a little apprehensive. "Okay," she said slowly. "What is it?"

Kyp pulled a small box out of his pocket. "This is just--" He tried to collect himself, to gather his thoughts into words she could understand. "You've been a better friend to me than I could ever deserve and--I'm happy for you," he said finally, thinking that his words sounded hollow even to his own ears. "You deserve this chance."

As Jaina looked at him curiously, he opened the box and pulled out a necklace--a long silver chain with a charm on the end. He held it out for her, and she took it.

The charm was simple: an "X" formed by a lightsaber and an old-fashioned durasteel sword, connected at the center with a tiny violet gem.

"Kyp," she began, then stopped, unable to work any sound past the lump in her throat.

"Like it?" he managed after a moment.

Jaina nodded, then spoke quietly. "Put it on?"

He took the necklace and lifted the hair off of her neck, careful not to disturb the dark curls. He was acutely aware of the warmth of her skin as he clasped the chain around her neck.

"Thank you," she whispered, fingering the charm lightly before letting it fall against the shimmersilk bodice of her dress.

Kyp kissed her on the forehead. "Don't forget who you are," he said, tucking her hair back behind her ears.

"Do you really think that's a risk?" Jaina asked, her tone sharper than she'd intended. Though she knew he didn't mean any harm by his words, they still stung.

He shrugged. "I just don't want you to fly off to Csilla with your new husband and forget your--"

"My what, Kyp?" Jaina snapped. "My _destiny_? I don't want to hear any more about my destiny. The war is over."

"But the fight isn't." Kyp sighed and turned away from her. "Look. I'm not saying that you shouldn't go off and be happy and have lots of babies. Just that while you're doing it, you should remember that we still need you."

" _We?_ " she echoed softly.

"Don't do this," he said, still not facing her. "I can't do this right now."

Jaina reached out and placed a palm against the tightly clenched muscles in his back. They tightened further at her touch, then relaxed as she left her hand in place. With a sigh, she pressed her forehead against the back of his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, Kyp. I'm not moving to the Unknown Regions, I'm not quitting being a Jedi or a pilot or anything. I'm just quitting being alone," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

He exhaled a sigh to match hers, then turned to embrace her loosely, resting his chin on top of her head. "I know," he said, feeling incredibly childish and stupid. "I just feel like I'm losing my best friend."

"You're not going to lose me. I still need you to help get me out of trouble." She pulled away and flashed him a brilliant smile.

"Notice how you don't want me to _keep_ you out of trouble," Kyp pointed out wryly.

"Of course not. That's impossible. I'm a Solo, remember?"

_Not for much longer_ , he thought. "It's okay, Goddess. I know my place."

"Mmm, I'm not sure you do," she said, the smile on her face turning positively evil. "You'll also be baby-sitting."

Kyp laughed derisively at that idea. "Are you kidding? I'm not baby-sitting your kids. They're going to be monsters."

"Hey!" Jaina said, thumping his chest. "My children will be perfect."

"Only because their mother is," he said. His tone was light, almost joking, but Jaina couldn't escape the sentiment in his eyes.

She pursed her lips and looked away. "Kyp--"

"Right." He exhaled slowly. "Okay. Go get married."

With one last half-hearted smirk in her direction, Kyp turned to leave.

Jaina watched him cross through her door and into the hall with a strange twisting feeling in her stomach. She wondered if this was what her father had called "cold feet," and thought that that was an entirely inept name for the phenomenon.

After a moment wrestling with indecision, Jaina bunched up the long dress in her hand and jogged out to meet Kyp as he waited for the turbolift.

He sensed her coming and turned towards her, checking for his cape, wondering what else he could have forgotten in her apartment after such a short visit. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

Instead, Jaina stepped up close to him--too close, Kyp thought with some sadness--and cupped his cheek with her small, calloused hand. He instinctively covered her hand with his own much larger one. "Jaina," he whispered, a question hovering in his voice.

Placing her other hand on his shoulder to keep steady, Jaina stood on her toes and leaned in to gently press her mouth to his.

At that moment, every rational thought left Kyp's mind. He closed his eyes, drinking in the way her lips felt against his, moist and petal-soft and agonizingly light. Neither of them made any move to deepen the kiss. Even though he was lost to the moment, Kyp knew that if he did, the moment would disappear, Jaina would turn to go and marry and have children and walk out of his life forever--

She sunk back down to her feet and stepped away, the back of her hand pressed against her lips.

He opened his eyes and stared at her, shocked and warm and, for once in his life, completely speechless.

Blinking away tears, Jaina bit her lip, nodded, and broke his unblinking gaze. Without looking back, she walked down the hallway and into her apartment, shutting the door softly behind her.

The bell signaling the turbolift's arrival rang, but Kyp stood glued to the floor, still unable to move. _What just happened?_

A Mon Calamari in Galactic Alliance uniform exited the turbolift and tapped Kyp gently on the shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked in accented Basic.

Kyp blinked rapidly, as if awakening from a dream. "Yeah," he said, eyes still on Jaina's hallway. "Just thinking."

The Mon Cal patted Kyp's arm and walked past him into the apartment nearest the lift.

Finally Kyp tore his gaze away and entered the turbolift. "That's enough," he murmured, the taste of Jaina's lips still on his tongue and on his mind.  


* * *

Jaina smiled up at her father and held out her elbow. He took it, then looked over at her. "Are you ready for this?"

"It's a little late to be asking me that, don't you think?" she teased.

"No." Han's voice was unusually serious.

"Dad," Jaina said, "I want this."

Han turned to look down the aisle at the man who was about to steal his daughter. Jag Fel stood in his dress uniform, hands clasped in front of him, the picture of composure: nothing in his stance or his face betrayed the anxiousness and excitement he was almost certainly feeling.

Han resented that--he considered it a personal failing that the boy looked so calm. Han had sure been terrified on _his_ wedding day, and he'd never even _met_ Leia's father. Good thing, too, he thought, considering who her father was. Still, Han was pretty sure he was capable of striking fear into the hearts of even the bravest men--especially when they were dating his daughter.

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't like him, sweetheart," he confided through the corner of his mouth.

His daughter frowned and kicked him lightly in the ankle. "We both know that's not true."

"Fine," Han said. "He might be better than that unwashed vent-crawler you hung around with when you were a kid--"

" _Daddy_ , Zekk is _here_ , be nice--"

"But that doesn't mean he's good enough for my only daughter," he finished stubbornly.

Jaina raised an eyebrow at him, an expression so like Han's own that it made his heart ache. "Would _anyone_ be good enough for your only daughter?"

Han weighed the question carefully, then mirrored her quirked eyebrow as he replied, only half-joking, "Weren't the Jedi in the Old Republic celibate?"

" _Daddy_ ," she said again, laughing. He thought that it had been too long since she'd called him that; wondered if he would ever hear it again. "Come on. It's not so bad--you and Mom have that apartment on Denon, we'll see you all the time. And Jag's a good man." Her eyes followed Han's up to the altar. "I'm pretty sure all of us, including you, owe him our lives."

This caused Han to frown again. "This isn't about me _owing_ him anything--which I don't, by the way--it's about my right as a father to take any man who comes within a hundred meters of you and feed him to a rancor."

In spite of his words, his gaze softened as he looked back and forth between Jaina and her fiancé, who, Han was pleased to note, was beginning to look antsy. _Good. Let him wait_ , Han thought.

"And, Jaina?"

"Yeah?"

"It isn't about what you owe someone," Han said, looking straight ahead. This sentimental stuff made him almost as uncomfortable as the suit he was wearing, but it was his daughter's wedding day, and he was pretty sure something corny was in order.

And he figured that if it had to be corny, it might as well be true.

"Look, kid," he continued, "You and Jag haven't had it easy, and it's not going to get any easier. And if you keep worrying about whether or not you deserve him--"

Jaina looked at him incredulously, as if wondering how he knew her not-so-secret fears, and he shrugged. "What? You think your brother and I don't talk?"

When the surprise in her features didn't lessen, Han sighed. "Women," he muttered, exasperated. "Like I was saying. This isn't about what you owe each other. I mean, if it was about what we deserved, there's about a mynock's chance on Hoth that your mom would still be with me. What matters is that, well--" Han coughed, annoyed that there seemed to be something causing his throat to constrict. "You love him. And he loves you. At least, he better, if he knows what's good for him."

She grinned wryly. "Thanks for the pep talk, Dad."

"Anytime, sweetheart," he said, embracing her tightly. "I mean it. Don't go forgetting about your old man."

"Why is everybody so worried about that?" she muttered.

"What?" Han asked as they separated.

"It's nothing," she assured him. "Just something Kyp said."

"Yeah?" Han treaded carefully, aware of how complicated the relationship was betwee Kyp and his daughter. "What'd he say?"

Jaina scuffed the toe of her sandal against the floor, an action familiar to Han from her youth. She had ruined every pair of nice shoes Leia ever bought her by doing that.

"I don't know. I think he's worried that I'm going to completely change once I get married. Which is _stupid_ , because Jag and I have been living together for almost a year, so it's not even like anything's going to change."

He observed her silently. He was sure she knew that Kyp's feelings for her ran deeper than friendship--that her marriage signified a definite end to something the man had still been clinging to. Then again, if she didn't, it was sure as hell none of Han's business, he decided.

"I mean I'm not even giving up my name," she grumbled.

Han raised an eyebrow. "You're not?"

"I didn't tell you?" Jaina asked, surprised. "No. I decided that it would be too much of a pain to change it." She grinned at him, that familiar, completely undiplomatic and slightly mischievious Solo grin. "Besides, I like being a Solo."

All of a sudden, Han felt a whole lot more comfortable with his daughter's wedding, and he opened his mouth to tell her so. But at that moment, the music started--a traditional Corellian wedding march, which Leia had decided on after Jaina declared that she absolutely did not hear a difference between any of the pieces they had listened to.

Han took his daughter's arm once again, and inhaled deeply as they stepped into view.

At his first sight of Jaina, Jag couldn't seem to stop his jaw from dropping. Han grinned smugly. That was an acceptable reaction--the boy was appropriately awed by the stunning vision before him.

He turned to look at his daughter, to offer her one last shared glance that would say, _You can still get out if you want to_ \--but her gaze was locked on her fiancé's, and love was written so clearly in her radiant smile and bright eyes that Han couldn't bear to do it.

After what felt like a millenium, Han and Jaina reached the altar. They turned to face each other and clasped hands as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I love you, sweetheart," he said gruffly.

She quirked a small smile at him. "I love you too, Dad."

Han stood still for a long moment, just looking at the beautiful young woman before him: galactic hero, brilliant pilot and mechanic, and his greatest accomplishment--and, undeniably, an adult, who was now taking the last step toward not needing him anymore. Now it would forever be Jag Fel who took care of her when she was sick, who passed her tools as she worked on her X-wing's hyperdrive, who listened to her complaints and successes, who comforted her when life, as it inevitably did, got too complicated or tragic--

"Dad?" Jaina said softly, shaking him from his reverie. She smiled at him, the look in her eyes telling him that she'd seen the direction of his thoughts. His hands were still wrapped tightly around hers, and she squeezed one last time before loosening her grip.

And when he still kept holding on, she gently pulled her hands from his and whispered, "It's time to let go."  


* * *

"Credit for your thoughts," said a familiar male voice.

Jaina sighed without turning around, reluctant to acknowledge the interruption. She'd just managed to escape the reception, in search of at least a brief respite from the happy, loud, and slightly drunken crowd of people. "Jace, you already told me the one about the Gamorrean bride--"

"Really?" The voice sounded amused. "I haven't heard that one yet."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Jacen?" she asked uncertainly.

"Guess again."

She whirled around to see her twin grinning broadly at her.

"That's not funny, Jace," Jaina said, unable to keep the irritation from her voice.

The smile dropped from his face immediately, and Jaina noticed something terribly off about him--he was Jacen's height, had Jacen's face--

_His eyes are blue._

Jacen was brown-eyed, like her, like their parents; the only blue-eyed Solo was--

Jaina swallowed hard, finding it suddenly difficult to breathe. "Anakin?" She brushed up against him in the Force, expecting a void or just a nasty trick. But he returned the gesture, and though he no longer shone as brightly as he once had, there was no mistaking his presence.

"Hey, big sis," he said quietly. "How's it going?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "What's going on? How are you--You can't be," she said decisively. "Anakin--you're--"

"Dead?" He nodded, amusement flashing in his pale eyes. "Check."

"I don't understand."

"Do you have to?" Anakin asked lightly, knowing full well what the answer was. One thing all three Solo children had in common was a need to take things apart, to figure them out, to understand, to deconstruct. None of them were good at taking things on faith.

True to form, Jaina glared at him. "It might be nice."

"Okay," he said. "Jacen and I have both learned a lot about the Force over the past few years."

Jaina waited for him to continue. When he didn't, she narrowed her eyes even further. "Is being cryptic a big part of what you learned?"

Anakin grinned. "Everything Uncle Luke told you about Yoda is true."

Realizing she wasn't going to get a better answer out of him, she gave up, a little irritated. "Fine," she said. But looking up at her baby brother, her mood softened. She pulled him into a hug, tucking her head under his chin and wondering when he got so tall, _Do you keep growing after you die?_ "I missed you."

"I know," he said, hugging her tightly in return. When they broke apart, Jaina couldn't miss the familiar mischievious glint in his eyes. "I think you've gotten shorter," he said, raising an eyebrow as though sizing her up.

She made a face. "Have not."

"No," Anakin said with certainty, "You've definitely shrunk."

"A lot of things have changed in the last five years, but my height isn't one of them." Jaina couldn't help wishing it was--shrinking would have been easier to deal with than the things that had actually happened.

Her brother looked again as though he were evaluating her. "Change is okay, you know."

"Is it?" she asked, shaking her head. "After you died--Anakin, you know what I did--what I became."

"But you overcame it."

"Not completely," she insisted. "I still--I can feel it inside me. I could ignore it before, but now it's always there."

"What if it is?" Anakin challenged. "I never fell, but I spent my entire life in our grandfather's shadow. Maybe Jacen's new ideas are right. If we hadn't been so afraid of falling to the dark side, the war might have ended years earlier."

"At what cost?" Jaina knew what her slip had cost her--magnifying that by a hundred Jedi wasn't an equation she liked. She sighed and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I never thought I'd hear you agree with Jacen on anything."

"Well, the main difference between us was that he thought and I acted, right? When you're dead, you have a lot of time to think."

Jaina looked at him curiously. "And to attend weddings?"

"Well," Anakin said, joining her next to the wall, "I also needed to ask you a favor."

"Anything."

He turned his head to face her, but his eyes didn't quite meet hers. "Don't name your son after me."

She blinked. "What?"

"Two generations are enough to carry this name. Your son doesn't need to have it, too," he said.

Jaina shook her head. She understood that much easily--being heir to Skywalker blood was burden enough, in her opinion. "No, I mean--my son? Don't you think you're being a little premature? Jag and I haven't even talked about having children yet."

Anakin's jaw dropped, and he looked at her for a long time before shaking his head. "And here I thought you were perceptive," he said with a smile. He placed her hand on her stomach. "Check it out."

Surprised and apprehensive, Jaina closed her eyes and moved her gaze inward. Everything was fine, the way it should be. Her heart beat steadily, her lungs collapsed and expanded. Nothing - but there it was. A foreign but familiar presence within her womb, so small she wouldn't have noticed it for weeks, but suddenly so vitally important that she was sure she must have known all along. Her Force signature and Jag's, mingling and combining to make something--some _one_ , she realized--completely new.

"How do you know it's a boy?" she breathed.

Anakin's smile grew broader, making him look like a little boy; Jaina wondered whether her son would look like Jag or like her brothers. "Call it, er, brotherly intuition."

Jaina threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. "I'm pregnant," she said, her smile almost painfully wide. "I can't believe it. How did this happen?"

Anakin stepped out of her embrace, his face red. "Um, that's a rhetorical question, right?"

Jaina rolled her eyes and punched him playfully in the shoulder. "Not _that_. I remember that part--well, _really_ well. I just meant--" Under her brother's expectant gaze, Jaina found herself blushing too. "Um, never mind."

"Good choice," he agreed.

"And don't worry," she said. "I don't plan on naming any of my kids after the dead."

"Also a good choice. You'd have to have a lot of kids."

Jaina winced. "Your sense of humor might actually be worse than Jacen's."

Anakin looked at her skeptically, and she quickly amended, "Well, maybe not. You haven't even _heard_ the Gamorrean bride joke."

"Let's keep it that way."

She grinned, and they stood side-by-side in companionable silence. Jaina had missed this--she hardly saw Jacen, and though he was her twin, it had been Anakin with whom she'd had the most in common, especially during the war.

During the war.

"Anakin?"

His eyes met hers. "Yeah?"

Jaina had to force herself not to look away. "Tahiri's here," she said after a long hesitation.

Her little brother's usually icy eyes were warm as he nodded. "I know," he said simply. "She'll be okay."

He stepped toward the open door and she followed him. Together they watched the scene: dozens of people, children and adults, dancing and eating and laughing. _Celebrating_ , Jaina thought, remembering one of her earliest conversations with Jag. _Anakin is dead. So many people we love are dead, but we celebrate anyway. Even during the war, we could always find something worth celebrating._

"Because we have to," Anakin responded. With a nod he gestured to Tahiri, who was dancing awkwardly and barefooted with Valin Horn, a bright smile lighting her pretty face. "Tahiri...is starting to understand that."

When they finally made eye contact again, Jaina was taken aback by the sadness in Anakin's eyes. He had seemed so at peace while they'd been speaking, but now there was a nearly tangible longing written all over his face.

"Do you understand?" he asked simply.

Jaina considered. She understood why her brother didn't dare go near Tahiri, even though this would likely be his last chance for a long time. She understood that the pain it would cause the girl would hurt Anakin even more than just watching her from a distance.

Still, Jaina was struck anew by his selflessness. She knew that if she were in his place, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from going to Jag. From being held by him, kissing him one last time. From telling him again how much she loved him.

"It's not really that hard. She's happy, Jaya, and I'm happy that she's happy, and that's enough."

"Because it has to be?" Jaina echoed quietly.

"Something like that."

They stood quietly, watching the reception continue on without the bride. "I didn't think you'd have a big wedding," Anakin mused, flashing her a quick grin. "Figured you'd get married in your flightsuit."

"I wish," she said, laughing. "There was no way that a Fel and a Solo could get married without a huge party. And all of the diplomatic incidents that would've been caused if we'd left anyone out..." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I'm just glad Mom handled the invitations." After a moment of consideration, she continued, "And the flowers. And the food. And the dress..."

"You look beautiful," Anakin said sincerely.

Jaina smiled. "Thanks."

Anakin closed his eyes briefly. "And your husband's looking for you."

"I know," she said. "I don't want to leave." _I don't want you to leave._

Before he could open his mouth to respond, she cut him off sharply. "And don't tell me that you're not _really_ leaving."

"Don't have to now. You said it for me."

They grinned at each other, their matching half-smiles mirror images. Jaina pulled him into one more fierce hug, closing her eyes and storing the moment away for safe-keeping. "Thanks," she whispered.

Once again, Anakin was the one to break the embrace. "Love you, Jaya. Tell Tahiri I--no. Don't," he said wistfully. He glanced into the reception once more and watched the small blonde girl spin and smile for a few brief moments. And so quietly Jaina could barely hear him, he said, "You'll be okay."

When Jaina blinked, he was gone.  


* * *

Jaina felt Jag's approach long before he joined her in the hall, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. "How are you doing?" he said, lips against her earlobe.

She nodded and placed her arms on top of his. "I'm fine." She cocked her head to the side, reevaluating. Her smile brightened. "No--I'm perfect."

"Yes, you are," he said, dropping a kiss on her bare shoulder. He turned her around and looked at her curiously. "The man with whom you were speaking a moment ago--was that Jacen?"

Jaina glanced away, back toward where her brother had stood only moments before. She wasn't sure how to tell Jag what had happened--she was having a hard enough time explaining it to herself. "Kind of," she hedged.

"How could it be _kind of_ Jacen?" her husband asked, amusement evident in his voice.

She sighed. "Because it _was_ Jacen. But also--something more."

Jag blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Jacen's learned a lot about the Force while he's been away," Jaina said, still in a state of near-disbelief herself. "And he learned how to--I don't _know_ , exactly, but channel the dead, or something, at least if they're strong enough to come back..."

"So that was--Anakin?" Jag asked carefully.

"Yeah." Jaina bit her lip, unable to meet Jag's eyes for fear of breaking down. "He made it back."

"Jaina," he said, reaching out one hand to cup her cheek. His green eyes searched her brown ones with a tenderness that surprised her even now: the comfort and peace she took from them was something she had never expected to find. "Are you all right?"

She nodded again and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning against his chest. Even after five years, it was still a strange sensation to lean into someone completely, Jaina thought. When Jag held her like this, with his strong arms the only thing keeping her standing, all of the weight she carried disappeared--the weight of being a Jedi, a Skywalker, a pilot; all of it turned to nothing. And she was just Jaina.

Jag pulled back and looked at her questioningly. Blushing, she realized she had spoken her last thoughts aloud, and stumbled to articulate them. "I was just thinking about how when I'm with you...I don't have to be anything. I can just be Jaina, and that's okay. You don't mind."

He leaned down to kiss her gently. "It's not just _okay_ , Jaina," he said. "You're all I want. That's why we're here, remember?"

"That's a pretty romantic statement coming from a Chiss," Jaina teased.

"Beneath my icy exterior beats the heart of a true Corellian," he retorted.

Standing up on her toes to come nearly face-to-face with him, she said, "You don't have to tell me, flyboy."

Jag leaned down for another light kiss, reluctantly pulling away when Jaina tried to deepen it. She groaned. "The only Corellian who won't kiss his wife at their wedding."

"This isn't really the place for such displays," he pointed out.

She smirked. "So if I find a conference room, I should let you know?"

He just gave her a look, and she had to admit he was right. There were enough dignitaries and politicians around that someone would undoubtedly stumble upon the couple if they dared to exchange more than a chaste kiss. Jaina sighed, entwined her fingers with his, and gave him a slightly resigned-looking lopsided grin.

Jag's half-smile reappeared as he examined their clasped hands, their matching silver wedding bands reflecting the light. "So," he said conversationally, trying hard to keep the worry and confusion--and maybe just a small amount of jealousy--from his voice, "Anakin came back for the wedding?"

"It wasn't just that. He wanted to ask me a favor."

Jag sighed inwardly, though he kept his face blank. It seemed to him that the living asked more than enough of her already--the dead, he thought, should solve their own problems instead of adding to Jaina's burden. "Which is?"

To his surprise, a smile spread across Jaina's face, lighting up her eyes.

Jaina hadn't intended to tell him right away, but she was so anxious to see his reaction that she couldn't resist. She looked down at the floor, studying the decorative tile intently, afraid that if she looked at him her eyes would give the secret away. "He asked me not to name our son after him," she said carefully.

"Our son...?" Jag asked, confused. Then his eyes widened as he realized what she meant, and he instinctively placed his palm against her stomach. "Our son," he repeated, and when he met her gaze his eyes were full of awe and excitement. " _Our son_."

Jaina giggled, and the rare sound brought an equally rare unrestrained smile to Jag's face. "Saying it a lot isn't going to change it."

He drew her tightly against him, still reeling from the news but finding strength, as always, in her embrace. "I wouldn't change it for the world," he whispered into her hair.

"So you're excited?" she asked, only half-joking. She hadn't really expected such a positive reaction--it was so sudden, so _soon_ , and how could she possibly be prepared for this at twenty-three--

"Of course. I know we hadn't intended to have children right now, but..." His voice trailed off as he looked at her, still smiling broadly. "I like the idea."

One side of her mouth quirked up as she traced the buttons on his dress uniform. "You're not worried?" she asked quietly. "About what kind of parents we'll be?"

Jag shook his head. "Not at all. I'm more worried about what your father's going to do to me when he finds out I've impregnated his only daughter."

This brought a smile back to Jaina's face. "He'll probably give you a medal. Even if he won't admit it, I think he likes the idea of having grandkids. He misses having little Jedi running around the house breaking things."

"Will he be Jedi?"

Jaina moved her hands up to wrap her arms around Jag's neck. "If he wants to be," she said softly. "I mean--he can be. He's strong in the Force."

"Doesn't that make him Jedi?"

She broke eye contact, looking past him as though a simple answer would be written on the off-white walls. This, she knew, was going to be the hardest thing about their marriage: that such a large part of her life and her history was always going to be foreign to him. That there was something so important that he couldn't really touch or understand. "No," she said finally. "Being a Jedi is a choice, like being a fighter pilot or anything else. And if he wants to train to be one when the time comes, he will. But this isn't a life I'll force on anybody."

"Might be easier if he wasn't," Jag said ruefully.

"Do you really think it'll make a difference?" Jaina asked, responding to Jag's unspoken worries, the deepest fear she knew he had about parenthood: that he and Jaina would have to bury one of their children. And as morbid as it sounded, Jaina knew it wasn't unreasonable. She had lost a brother, Jag had lost three siblings; because of who they were, because of the constant instability of the galaxy they were sworn to protect, it often felt like they were living on stolen time. Their son's sensitivity to the Force would be hard for Jag--it would be something Jag could never share, and something that would keep their son perpetually in danger.

_Like both of his parents_ , Jaina thought. _Jag gets in plenty of trouble without being a Jedi._

Jag's half-smile let her know that he understood the direction of her thoughts. "Even if he doesn't become a Jedi, he will still be the best pilot in the galaxy."

"After my father, of course," Jaina said lightly.

Jag crossed his arms in front of him. "You mean _my_ father," he corrected.

"Ha! My dad could outfly yours any day."

"Not in the flying death trap he calls a ship," Jag shot back.

Jaina stepped back and glared at her new husband, lips pursed, and he knew he'd gone too far.

"Watch it, flyboy," she warned. "That's one thing you won't get away with."

He looked at her pleadingly. "Won't I?"

When Jaina shook her head, Jag crossed the space between them and leaned down to kiss her, intending only another of the light kisses they had shared all evening. Jaina had other ideas, and after her announcement, he was entirely unprepared to deny her anything. She slipped her arms around his neck, pressing her body close against his as she deepened the kiss, tracing his lips with her tongue.

"Mmm," she whispered into his mouth. "Maybe."

His mouth moved down the length of her neck, leaving a trail of damp kisses along her vein. Jaina moaned softly, causing him to chuckle. "About that conference room," he murmured before capturing her lips with his again. She grinned and started to lead him down the hall without breaking the kiss.

"Ahem."

At the sudden sound the couple jumped apart, then turned in unison to see Jacen leaning against the wall with a huge smile on his face. "Your honeymoon hasn't started yet, kids."

Jaina flushed dark pink. "Shut up. We're allowed to kiss in public. We're married, remember?"

"Unlike you and Tenel Ka," Jag said, eyebrows raised as he recalled the number of times Jacen and Tenel Ka had shared more than friendly and less than private exchanges. Jaina grinned at him in approval.

Jacen made a face at both of them, then turned to face his twin, giving her a meaningful glance. "Anyway, I just wanted to see if you liked your wedding gift."

Jaina nodded, sending him gratitude through their bond even as she spoke aloud. "Yes. Thank you." She didn't have to ask if her brothers had worked things out: Anakin wouldn't have been able to come, she understood, if any animosity had remained.

Jacen turned toward Jag next, and offered the taller man a small smile and a hand. Jag shook it, then after an awkward pause, the men embraced loosely.

"Be good to her," Jacen said, a note of warning in his voice.

"I'm right here," Jaina reminded them.

Ignoring his wife's protest, Jag nodded seriously at her twin. "I will."

"Good." Jacen raised his eyebrows. "You should really go back in there. People are looking for you. This is _your_ reception, you know."

"That's a nice thought," Jaina grumbled. "I don't even know half of those people."

"But they all know you." Jacen patted her on the shoulder and threw the couple a grin over his shoulder as he walked back toward the reception. "If you two aren't back in here in five minutes, I'm telling Dad."

She stuck her tongue out at him, then turned back to Jag, who was looking on with amusement glittering in his eyes. "What?" she asked.

He cupped her face with his hand, running his thumb across her cheekbone. "I love you."

Jaina closed her eyes, savoring the touch of his hand and the warmth of his voice: the way so many small things made her feel so complete.

Jag leaned down and brushed his lips against each eyelid in turn, then pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you," he repeated more softly.

She thought that she had heard that phrase spoken to her in many different ways: tonight Anakin had said it sadly, her father had said it wistfully. Her mother always said it with regret thick in her voice; Jacen used to say it lightly and easily, but in the last years had hardly said it at all; and Kyp had said it once and only once, with a passion so rough that it cut.

Whenever Jag told her he loved her, he said it the same way he said everything else: like it was obvious. He stated his love as a fact, irrefutable and unconditional, honest and uncomplicated.

Jaina thought she liked his way best.

"I love you," Jaina said, eyes still closed, lips so close to his that they brushed when she spoke, and she wondered how he heard those words. She reached out to Jag in the Force, smiling when he accepted her touch, allowing her into his thoughts and feelings: the dreams and fears he kept so carefully guarded from the world.

Except that in this moment, for the first time in her memory, the fear was gone. And as her presence mingled with his, all that she felt was hope: Jag's vision of their future, two black-haired children with Jaina's smile, quiet mornings waking up to the sunrise and each other's familiar bodies, holidays spent with their families on a snowy planet, the two of them holding hands in the cockpit of a state-of-the-art ship. Dreams vivid enough to be memories. For a long moment Jaina allowed herself to be absorbed in them.

When she finally opened her eyes she was greeted by Jag's trademark half-smile--that barely noticeable quirk on one side of his mouth, the expression she had fallen for all of those years ago on Hapes, the expression that still made her heart beat faster--and she knew.

Jag pressed his lips to hers one more time before offering her his left arm. "Shall we?" he asked, motioning toward the reception hall.

Jaina put her arm through his, trailing her fingers down his forearm and linking them with his. "We wouldn't want Jacen to follow through with his threat."

"Certainly not," Jag agreed with a chuckle. He stopped suddenly and glanced down at Jaina. "You don't think he heard--"

"About the baby?" She considered for a moment, then shook her head. "No. I would've felt it." She eyed him. "We're going to have to tell our parents pretty soon, you know."

"Of course." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure her in spite of the pained expression on his face. "But perhaps we should wait until after the wedding."

Jaina grinned. "So they can't return their wedding gift?"

Jag suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I don't really think that's an issue."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Nothing," he said hurriedly.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're a terrible liar. You know what they got us!"

Jag sighed helplessly. "Yes."

"What is it?"

Indecision was written clearly on his face, but after a brief hesitation his shoulders relaxed, and he graced her with another slow, small smile. "It's a ship, Jaina. Our families got us a ship."

Her eyes grew wide. "How do _you_ know?" she said accusingly.

"Because your father and I designed it."

Jaina gaped at him. "So how long have you known about this?"

"Since a few weeks after we got engaged." Her grip on his hand became uncomfortably strong, so he reached over and gently pried her fingers from his, then put his arm around her shoulder. "I wanted to tell you, but it would have ruined the surprise."

When her only response was a glare, Jag raised his eyebrows. "You already got to surprise me tonight, if you'll recall."

"I just found out! And _besides_ ," she said, exasperated, "that's totally different than a _ship_."

"Are you saying that a ship is more important than our child?"

She elbowed him in the stomach. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Of course not," Jag agreed easily.

"But," Jaina continued, putting her right arm around his waist, "it feels...special. Like it makes us..." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "You, me, our son, and a real ship? When I was a kid, the _Falcon_ was the only place that ever really felt like home. And this--this'll be a new home. A new family."

"Our family," Jag said softly. "It sounds nice, doesn't it?"

She just nodded, a small, content smile on her face.

"And I think," her formerly grim husband continued, leading her back into the reception, where music mingled with laughter and clinking glasses to echo around the room, where dozens of familiar faces greeted the couple's reappearance with brilliant smiles, "that it is something worth celebrating."  


* * *


End file.
